


it's a feeling i guess that i'll get used to

by socallmedaisy



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-03
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-11 09:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/socallmedaisy/pseuds/socallmedaisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brittany goes away with her parents for the first month of the summer, and Santana finds a friend she wasn’t expecting. Prequel to i-80 west.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's a feeling i guess that i'll get used to

**Author's Note:**

> Set the summer between seasons two and three.

It’s only just now that she’s realising just how much it sucks that Brittany’s going away on this month long family vacation to see her mom’s family in Santa Fe as soon as school ends, and even though Brittany tells her she’ll call and text every single day on the way home from school it still feels like she’s losing something she’s only just gotten back and she doesn’t know what to do about it.

It doesn’t help that she still doesn’t know exactly where they stand, or if she can be just friends with Brittany if that’s really all they are now. Brittany isn’t with Artie anymore, but she didn’t say anything about being with her either, and she thinks if she asks she might break it all again and she’d be left with no Brittany at all.

They just sort of stare at each other when they get to Brittany’s house, Santana’s hands twisting around the straps of her backpack while Brittany blinks at her steadily, and after a moment she says, “Santana...”

She trails off like she’s completely lost.

“I’ll miss you,” Santana says, her eyes on the floor and sort of swallowing the words to make sure they don’t come out too emotional, because Brittany had agreed that they were best friends, and she doesn’t remember wanting to cry like this the years before when they’d said goodbye for a month on the sidewalk outside Brittany’s house.

“I’ll miss you too,” Brittany says, with a half second’s delay, like that’s not actually what she wanted to say exactly, and then she’s reaching for Santana and pulling her into her arms, her face pressing into her neck as she holds her close.

Santana lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, inhaling Brittany’s shampoo and perfume and wishing she never had to let go.

“Have a good time with your family,” Santana mumbles into her hair, her fingers curling around Brittany’s waist and into the fabric of her shirt.

They stay like that for long moments before either of them moves, and Santana’s the first one to step away, realising they’re standing outside Brittany’s house clinging to each other and wondering what Brittany’s parents would say if they saw them, the same way she wondered what people would say who saw them in the hallway at school.

“I’ll call you,” Brittany says and all Santana can do is nod before she has to turn away so Brittany doesn’t see the look on her face.

She walks as fast as she can, feeling Brittany’s eyes on her back as she clutches the straps of her backpack tightly, until her knuckles turn white.

+

She’s pretty silent through dinner with her parents, not really answering their questions and picking at her food. She can feel her cell phone vibrating in her pocket but doesn’t dare answer it, even though it might be Brittany, in case her parents freak out about phones at the table again, like they do whenever they all manage to be in at the same time for once and get to eat together.

Her dad asks her what her plans for the summer are and if she plans to spend it with Sam—it takes her a moment to realise he thinks they’re still dating, and she only realises because her mom hisses, “David!” at him across the table—and she just shrugs her shoulders non-committal because she’s not dating him either.

(She doesn’t know if she’s even dating at all, never mind how to explain it to her parents.)

“Brittany’s going to Santa Fe,” she volunteers eventually in this listless voice when they start asking if she has plans with friends, and her parents exchange glances for a long moment before she asks if she can be excused and they let her go.

+

She watches a movie on her computer without really seeing it, toying with her phone and reading the messages Brittany sent her through dinner over and over, wondering what she can say back.

It’s just Brittany, but everything feels different now, so she doesn’t know if she says that she wishes she could come on the trip as well it’d be weird, because she did go to visit family with her one summer when they were younger and it wasn’t weird at all.

Everything just feels so heavy now, and she tries to concentrate on the movie instead, just to turn her brain off for a while because it feels like she’s just thinking the same things over and over and never coming up with any answers. She’s seen the movie before but Amanda Bynes is cute, and it helps it all stop for a little while, until he remembers the last time she watched this movie, snuggled up on the couch in Brittany’s basement and pointedly not talking about the fact that they were pressed so close together under the blanket.

She rolls over on the bed and reaches for her computer to change movies, clicking the first thing that comes up on Netflix just to get the other one to stop, hitting play blindly and trying to shake Brittany’s face from her mind.

She thinks she nods off, and it’s only her phone vibrating on her stomach as she lies on her bed that wakes her up. She rubs her hands against her face as she taps at the screen and opens the message and then blinks a little when she sees what it says.

 _open ur window_  
(10.48pm)  
—-

Once she’s got her window open and leans her head out to look, she sees Brittany grinning up at her from the lawn. She’s wearing shorts and a hoodie with her hair spilling down her back, and she looks so beautiful in the little light shining from the porch that Santana almost can’t stand it.

“Come down?” Brittany calls, just loud enough for her to hear, and Santana doesn’t even think, just nods and grabs her jacket from the back of her chair, before padding down the stairs barefoot and pausing in the hallway to listen for her parents. She slips down the stairs and only pauses for half a second to run a hand through her hair and check her reflection in the mirror in the hall before creeping out the front door as quietly as she can, and when she turns around, Brittany’s standing on her porch waiting for her, half a smile tugging at her lips.

“What are you doing here, Britt?” Santana says before she can help herself, and hates the way it comes out kind of hopeful.

“I wanted to say goodbye before I leave,” she murmurs, taking a step closer and reaching to curl her fingers around Santana’s pinky, tugging until Santana’s forced to move closer.

“I really wish I was staying,” she says before Santana can say anything. She leans down a little to meet Santana’s eyes, “You know that, right?”

She brushes a strand of hair away from Santana’s eyes with her free hand, and Santana can’t stop herself from leaning into the touch, featherlight and gone almost as quick as it starts. 

“I wanted you to know that,” Brittany says in this tiny voice when Santana still doesn’t say anything, and Santana just nods, not trusting herself to speak.

“Have a good time, Britty,” Santana says eventually, swallowing to clear the lump in her throat. 

“I won’t without you,” Brittany murmurs, and when Santana blinks she’s suddenly a lot closer than before, her eyes flicking down to Santana’s lips and then up to her eyes, and Santana feels something flip over in her stomach.

Her hand goes up to Brittany’s cheek before she can stop it and then she’s moving too, but it still feels like an impossibly long time until their lips meet, soft at first and then a little harder, Brittany’s tongue darting out to lick at Santana’s bottom lip until she opens her mouth and deepens the kiss, sighing into it and relaxing into Brittany’s arms.

It’s the first time they’ve kissed since before the lockers, and Santana hadn’t know it was possible to miss something this much until this moment, until Brittany’s hand is in her hair and her other hand is in the small of her back, holding her close under the porch light as they kiss slowly, getting use to the feel of each other again. She can’t shake the feeling that she shouldn’t be doing this, that she’s taking something that she has no right to and being selfish again because nothing has really changed, but Brittany’s fingers curl around her jaw and she pushes the thought away. 

She can hate herself in the morning, when Brittany’s on the way to New Mexico and the taste of her is fading from her lips.

She doesn’t know how long it lasts, because all she can think is that she’s kissing Brittany again and trying to remember it all just in case it’s the last time as well, but Brittany’s the first one to pull back, bumping her forehead against Santana’s while she exhales shakily and smiles.

“I have to get home before my mom realises I’m gone,” Brittany says, wiping her thumb across Santana’s bottom lip until she shivers. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Britt,” Santana says, sort of brokenly, and then they’re clinging onto each other like they never want to let go, Brittany pressing one last desperate kiss to her lips before she pulls herself away, their fingers the last thing to let go because Santana tries to hold on as long as she can, and disappears into the dark.

+

She spends almost all of the first day Brittany is gone in her bedroom, not bothering to change out of her pajamas because her parents are both at work and there’s no one else to see her. She can’t stop thinking about the kiss, and how Brittany has texted her a message that just said _goodnight xxx_ when she got home, which seems like the kind of thing you’d maybe text a boyfriend or girlfriend rather than just a friend.

Anything’s possible, Brittany had said, but she still doesn’t know what that _means_ , especially because they spent ten minutes making out on her porch the night before and Brittany had acted like that was perfectly normal and not something Santana had spent the last three months wishing for desperately, with everything she had.

Brittany texts her a couple of times throughout the day, just updating her on where she is and Santana stares at the screen for a long time like it’s some sort of code she could only understand if she stared hard enough only it never seems to work. 

Sometime in the afternoon she reaches for a notebook and pen from her desk and tries to scribble down everything she knows, like how Brittany had said she loved her more than anyone else in the world but how she’d also said she was her best friend and so maybe she meant she loved her like a friend too, how she’d come over just to kiss her and texts her updates like they’ve been married for ever but how she’d left without saying if that meant anything or if Santana’s just reading into it way more than she should.

She ends up with a mess of words and nothing that really makes sense and she rips the page out and tears it up before shoving it into the trashcan in the corner and wondering why she even bothered in the first place.

+

It’s two days since Brittany’s been gone when she hears the Skype alert for an incoming call, and she dives across the room faster than she’d ever admit just in case it’s Brittany calling her. Whatever, she’s not pathetic, but somewhere in the back of her mind she thinks that it might be Brittany with some sort of answer to all the questions in her head, even though she know it’s never going to be that easy, and she hits answer blindly and then blinks when the picture loads.

“Santana?” he says, at the same time she says, “Sam?”

They haven’t really spoken to each other since she stopped making out with him just to prove that she could and they both stare for a moment before she forces herself to speak. “Did you want something?” It comes out harsher than she intended and she watches a brief scowl flash over his features.

“I was trying to call Artie but I must have clicked the wrong name,” he says and the scowl deepens when she says, “Obviously.”

“Shouldn’t you be making out with Karofsky or something? Why are you on your own in the room with the shades drawn?” his eyes flick around her room curiously, and she moves closer to the screen to try and block his view.

“We, um. I’m not with Karofsky,” is all she says, shifting a little uncomfortably as his eyes settle on her, because she doesn’t need to explain herself to Sam Evans of all people.

“Oh,” he says, “Bummer.” And he actually sounds like he means it too which is something she never understood about him. 

“Whatever,” she says, because she honestly has no idea why they’re still talking about this. “Look, Trouty Mouth, this was fun and all, but let’s not do it again any time soon, okay?” she starts to reach for the trackpad to disconnect the call.

“Wait, Santana,” he says quickly. “Do you know if Karofsky likes comic books? I’m trying to sell some stuff, that’s why I was looking for Artie, and I already tried Mike but he has most of these so—”

“You’re selling your comic books?” she asks, because the only thing she really learnt about Sam while they were “dating” was that he was a nerd for all that superhero shit. She still remembers the time she’d accidentally set a can of soda down on top of an issue of Batman or something and he’d screamed this ridiculous girly scream, even though it was in a plastic cover.

“My family needs the money,” he says quietly, after a moment, suddenly serious. “They’re the only thing I have left to sell.” He looks kind of like a kicked puppy for just a moment, and Santana actually feels sorry for him.

“Um, you’re on a computer right now,” Santana says because she figures he’d probably rather lose that than the books and watches him shake his head, his shaggy hair dropping into his eyes. He pushes it away.

“It’s Kurt’s,” he says. “He lent it to me for school and stuff.”

“I’m sorry you have to sell your comic books,” she says after a moment and he just nods like he knows she means it even though it comes out kind of stilted and awkward.

“I’m sorry you broke up with Karofsky,” he says and Santana swallows at the lie again.

“You shouldn’t be,” she says quickly, “And I don’t know if he likes comic books, so you should probably stick to Artie. I’ll see you, Sam.”

It’s maybe the first time she’s ever used his actual name, including all those times they were actually making out, and he meets her eyes for a second before he hangs up. “See you, Santana.”

+

Brittany texts her a picture from her grandma’s pool in Santa Fe with _wish u were here :) xxx_ underneath it, only she managed to get half of her own legs in the shot as well, stretched out on a sun lounger and so bronzed by the sun that Santana almost swallows her own tongue when she opens it. 

_looking good x_ she sends back, because fuck, that’s the truth, and she’s still staring at the picture when Brittany’s reply comes back.

 _i just wanna cuddle with you by the pool xxx_ and Santana really doesn’t know what to do with that at all.

She wants to ask what that means, but she doesn’t know how, so she just stares at her phone and the empty message box for a long time, trying to think of what to say.

+

Quinn texts her a couple of times but she ignores it, mostly because it’s gotten to the point where she has to stuff her phone into a drawer and ignore Brittany’s messages for the sake of her sanity because Brittany keeps talking about cuddling and going out for dinner once she’s back and Quinn’s messages are kind of becoming collateral damage.

She just wants to know where she and Brittany stand instead of being in this weird in between place they’re inhabiting, talking to each other without really talking about it because the habit of a lifetime is hard to break even when you really want to and know that you have to if things are going to change.

She just wishes this was easier, because honestly she still doesn’t know how to tell people that she likes girls, and how that might change their opinion of her, when she isn’t really sure if they like her that much in the first place.

The fact that Quinn is texting her at all is something she hadn’t even really expected, and she suspects Brittany might have asked her to, which makes it hundreds of times worse.

She keeps getting lost inside her head, and she doesn’t know who can pull her out of it because she can’t talk to Brittany and she doesn’t know who else there is. Her mom keeps looking at her all concerned whenever she goes downstairs, asking if she’s still dating that nice David boy or if she’s going to go hang out with her friends soon with this look that she can’t really read.

She thinks her mom thinks she’s all heartbroken over him, and she’d honestly laugh if it didn’t make her want to cry.

+

She starts running late at night, because she has this sort of half formed plan about getting back on the Cheerios that she hasn’t told anyone about yet. She tries to go somewhere different every night, just to keep it interesting, her ipod blasting songs in her ears as her feet slap against the pavement.

Running helps her forget everything she spends her days worrying about, because she can concentrate on the music and the steady pace and force herself not to think beyond how long the next mile will take, and which way she should go at the end of each street.

It’s the third night since Sam called, and she isn’t even aware that her feet are taking her to his motel before she gets there, and she pulls up at the sight of him carrying a trash bag over to the dumpsters against the side of the motel building.

“Santana?” he calls, when she’s trying to catch her breath so she can run again, and she raises her hand in a little half wave of acknowledgement.

“Hey,” she says, trying to look casual but just sort of failing.

“What are you doing here?” he says, and she rolls her eyes.

“What does it look like?” she gestures down at her running shoes and waves her ipod in front of him.

“Like you’re about to die,” he says with a smirk. She kind of wants to hit him but she settles for narrowing her eyes.

“I’m going to try out for cheerleading again,” she says, though she doesn’t know why she’s telling him, and she coughs a little and looks away, trying to be casual. He just looks at her so she bounces a little on the spot and stretches her leg out in front of her, getting ready to go again.

“Okay,” he says, with a shrug. “Will you be okay getting home? It’s late.”

She rolls her eyes, “I’ll be fine, Trouty. Worry about yourself,” and then she’s running again.

+

She goes to visit her abuela because she doesn’t know what else to do, and she’s spent so many summers at her house that she feels like she should be there for this one too. Her abuela asks her to help her sort out some photographs and keepsakes that she’d found in the back of a cupboard and it turns out most of them are photographs of her when she was younger, some with her abuelo who died when she was little but a lot with friends and family members that Santana’s never seen before, and she stares at them interestedly, spotting her eyes and nose on some of the faces and hanging on her abuela’s words.

Her abuela looked so much like her when she was younger that it’s actually a little creepy, and she brushes her fingers against a photograph of her and her abuelo, peering at it closely while her abuela watches her.

“We grew up together you know,” her abuela says after a moment. She smiles to herself, her eyes going distant, and Santana daren’t move in case she disturbs the moment.

“He was such a gentleman, your abuelo. Everyone always said he was such a nice young man, and all the girls were jealous because he never ever looked at them,” she smiles to herself again, remembering.

“Did you always know he was the one?” Santana asks slowly, once it becomes obvious her abuela isn’t going to say anything else, and her eyes slide over to look at her, her expression going serious.

“Always. He was the only boy I kissed, and the only one I wanted to. Not like you and your boys!” her eyes narrow and Santana looks down at her feet, feeling the colour in her cheeks. “Are you still seeing David?”

“No, abuela,” Santana says quickly, shaking her head. 

Her abuela tuts. “I never liked him anyway. Sam was a much nicer young man. Maybe you see Sam again now?”

Santana shakes her head again. She wants to say something but Brittany’s name is wedged in her throat and blocking everything from coming out. She tries to swallow and just succeeds in making her breath hitch instead.

“Is there someone else you like?” her abuela asks softly, her eyes fixed on Santana’s face, and Santana nods hesitantly, just once.

“I don’t know if—if they like me back,” she says, stumbling over the pronoun a little and hoping her abuela won’t notice. 

Her abuela tuts again. “He’d be a fool not to,” she reaches over and nudges Santana’s chin with her hand, smiling a little, “Mi niña hermosa.” 

Santana meets her eyes and smiles, just a little. 

“That’s better,” her abuela says kindly, climbing to her feet with a little bit of a groan. “Now how about some lunch?”

“Sí, abuela,” Santana glances down at the photograph in her hand one more time before following her into the kitchen. 

+

Brittany calls for the first time the next day, and Santana can’t bring herself to answer. She’s texted her back a couple of times, but it’s been a while since she did, and she wonders if Brittany’s calling her to see if she’s still there.

Her thumb hovers over the answer button but she lets it go to voicemail, and after a moment her phone vibrates to signal a new message.

“ _Hey you_ ,” Brittany’s voice says, “ _I just wanted to hear your voice but I guess you’re busy or something, so. It’s really hot here and Ash is being a brat, and I wish I was back in Lima with you or you were here with me. I just wanna hug you and never ever let go. Can I do that when I get back? I’m not gonna let go of your hand for the whole rest of the summer. I promise, okay?_ ” She sighs, and Santana hears her swallow before she says, “ _I really miss you, Santana._ ” There’s a pause while someone says something in the background and when she comes back she’s speaks quickly. “ _I gotta go, honey. Text me, okay? Love you_ ,” and then she’s gone and Santana is scrambling to hit replay as fast as she can.

It’s only an hour later when the warning beeps on her phone for low battery that she realises just how many times she’s listened to the message and she realises exactly how pathetic that is with a jolt, shaking her head at herself, and hanging up on her voicemail just before Brittany says, “ _Love you_ ,” again. 

She climbs off her bed to go find her charger in her desk drawer and plug her phone into the wall, Brittany’s words replaying in her head, before she curls up on her bed again, trying to make sense of it all.

+

The next day her mom has the day off, and she comes to knock on Santana’s door, this look of concern on her face.

“Mom, I’m sleeping,” Santana says, even though she’s been awake for hours now and making a half hearted attempt to look through the college brochures she’d sent for before school finished, like she had any idea of where she wanted to go.

She just kept thinking how all of these colleges didn’t have Brittany, and wondering if Brittany had started to make plans like hers too. She’d always just kind of assumed that they’d go to college together, but after everything that happened last year, and the uncertainty around them now, those plans had started to drift away and she hadn’t found a way to get them back.

“Why don’t you call one of your friends, Santana?” her mom says, crossing the room to open the shades. “You haven’t seen Quinn for a while.”

She squints against the light and doesn’t know how to tell her mom that she’s not even sure if they’re friends anymore.

“Maybe,” she says after a moment. Her mom just looks at her so she reaches for the Stanford brochure on top of the pile next to her bed and waves it at her. “I was looking at colleges.”

“Stanford?” her mom says, coming around to see. “You want to go to California?”

Santana shrugs and drops it back down. “I’m still trying to figure that out,” she says, and her mom reaches to brush some hair away from her face with a little sigh.

“What about Brittany?” she asks softly, and her eyes snap round to look at her mom, widening slightly.

“What about Brittany?” Santana echoes, feeling her heart speed up a little in her chest.

“Do you know what she wants to do?” her mom asks, and Santana knows she’s only talking about colleges but she’s gotten this conversation confused somewhere along the way so she shakes her head no, because she doesn’t know at all.

+

Her evening run takes her through Quinn’s neighbourhood and she slows down when she gets to her house, remembering the text messages that went unanswered from the last couple of days. She stretches out her legs a little and shifts her hips from side to side, glancing up at Quinn’s window to see if the light is on. 

It is, and she wonders if she’d come down if she threw a rock or something against the glass, but then she isn’t sure what she’d say other than she can’t look at her phone because Brittany keeps sending her all these _messages_ and she doesn’t know what they _mean_.

Sure, she cut Quinn’s hair in New York, but she’s not sure if that one act fixed everything that had gone wrong between them since the first day of school the year before, and before that, back to when Quinn was pregnant and she’d bailed and taken Brittany with her.

She scuffs her toe against the gravel on Quinn’s driveway and glances up at her window again, but it’s such a ridiculous idea that she just shakes her head and starts running back towards her house, the music loud in her ears as she tries to block everything out.

+

She falls asleep listening to music on her computer, and wakes up because Skype is chirping at her again, only this time it’s not a call. She drags herself over to her desk and blinks at the screen, reaching for her glasses and waiting for the words to come into focus.

_artie?_

She scoffs when she sees his message and types back quickly, _it’s santana again. how hard is it to tell us apart?_

 _his username is swagbrams so ur rite next to each other_ , he types back quickly. _sorry. (again)._

 _swagbrams?_ she types before she can stop herself. She doesn’t have him added as a friend for obvious reasons, and she doesn’t know why she finds the name so hilarious, but.

 _i got more comics for him_ , he types next and Santana feels a pang of sympathy go through her again. _we can’t afford the wifi much longer. my dad needs it for job hunting._

 _sorry :(_ , she types quickly, and she means it too.

_yeah so i need to find someone to buy the comics artie didn’t want. he doesn’t like dc._

She has no idea what that last part means, and she searches around for something to say that might actually help for a minute before she says, _can’t you sell them to the comic book store or something, the other nerds would probably buy them._

Sam ignores the insult, and she’s actually kind of glad, just types back, _i can’t carry them all to the store on my own._

Santana bites her lip, and later she’ll totally blame the fact that he caught her when she was half asleep, but _i could give u a ride_ , she types quickly, and hits enter before giving herself a chance to second guess it.

+

She makes sure she tells her mom that she’s going to hang out with Sam, because old habits die hard, and she sees her look interested for half a second before she nods and tells her to be back for dinner, offering her a smile as Santana grabs her keys and heads for the door, wondering if her mom would ever look the same way if she said she was going to hang out with Brittany.

She drives to the motel quickly and finds Sam sitting outside the door with three boxes stacked up next to him, and he looks surprised for a second when she pulls up, like he only half believed she was going to show.

“Hey,” he says, when she climbs out and goes round to open the trunk, and she just nods when he carries the first box over and drops it inside. “Thanks for this.”

She shrugs and watches him carry another box over. “It gives me something to do.” 

“I thought you’d be hanging out with Brittany or something,” he says, and she looks away, wishing he’d hurry up.

“Brittany’s in New Mexico visiting family for the month,” she says quickly, like if she says the words fast enough he won’t catch the sadness in her voice but she thinks he can tell something is up because he glances at her as he drops the last box into the trunk for just a second too long before he looks away.

“That sucks,” he says, and Santana just climbs into the driver’s seat without saying anything and waits for him to follow.

“You know where Alter Ego is, right?” he says once she’s started the engine.

“I’ve driven past it,” she says cooly, and he just nods, accepting her answer and ignoring the harshness in her voice once again.

She doesn’t know why he keeps doing that, and she glances at him out of the corners of her eyes like she’s trying to work out what he’s going to do next.

“So what have you been up to since school finished?” he asks when they’re sitting at a red light, and she just glances over at him confused.

“You don’t have to do that,” she says, pushing the car back into drive. “You’re not my best friend all of a sudden.”

“How about _a_ friend,” Sam says when she pulls up to the curb and she stares at him like she’s never seen him before, until he shrugs and climbs out.

“Thanks for the ride,” he says, “I’ll get my comics and you can go.”

“I wasn’t gonna stick around,” she says, only it doesn’t quite come out the way it’s meant to.

+

She goes out for a run when she gets back, and her feet carry her to Brittany’s empty house without her even thinking about it, and she comes to a stop to stare up at it for a moment as she sucks in air. It looks wrong just because she knows no-one is inside, even though the house doesn’t look any different than it normally does, and she glances up at Brittany’s window out of habit, half expecting to see her hanging out of it and waving with a grin on her face, the same way she had on dozens of summer afternoons before.

She hadn’t been around so much when Brittany was dating Artie, and she wonders if that’s what’s throwing her off, like maybe Brittany’s mom cut the flowers in the yard differently, or it’s just the sight of the yard without Ashley’s bike lying in it that’s weird and not the house itself.

She just wishes Brittany would come back, because she doesn’t know how long she can deal with things being empty or not where she expects them, and she starts to run again without looking back, just so she doesn’t have to see it anymore.

+

She really needs to start turning her computer off when she goes out because when she gets back to her room, there’s another message from Sam waiting for her. She clicks over to it quickly and scans the words.

_hey santana i just wanted 2 say thanx for the ride today. i sold a bunch of my books and gave the money to my folks :)_

_no problem trouty_ , she types quickly and hits enter. She pauses for a moment before she adds, _it sucks that you had to sell them_ and waits for him to reply.

 _family comes first_ , he says, and it reminds her so much of Brittany’s speech on the last day of school that she just stares at it for a moment, remembering the way Brittany had looked at her as they’d leaned against the lockers. 

_anyway thanks again :)_ he says, pulling her from her thoughts, and disconnects before she can reply.

+

Apparently there are only so many times you can play _You Oughta Know_ loudly in your bedroom before your mom comes to see if you’re okay, and she comes in just when Santana’s tossing her phone across the room to land on the desk with a clatter and raises her eyebrows as she stares at her.

“Arguing with someone?” she says, and Santana doesn’t know how to explain that the problem is that Brittany keeps sending her text messages that she doesn’t know how to answer and she’s starting to get angry at herself every time her phone buzzes with a new one.

“Not really,” she says and shrugs when her mom tries to get a better look at her. She doesn’t say anything else, and after a moment the silence starts to stretch, until her mom sighs and crosses her arms over her chest the same way she does.

“Are you going to spend the whole summer in your room?”

Santana rolls her eyes, “No,” she says just sort of by reflex, before she’s even worked out the rest of the lie.

“No?” her mom repeats, disbelieving. The look her mom gives her forces her to keep going.

“I’m going to see, uh, Sam,” she says, because he’s literally the first person that comes into her head, and she doesn’t even want to think about why that is just now, just climbs off the bed and grabs her purse off her desk.

“Okay,” she says, stepping aside when Santana stands and makes to move past her. “But be home for dinner.”

“Sure,” Santana says as she clomps down the stairs, and hopes that Sam will actually be in when she gets there.

+

She drives over to the motel slowly, wondering if she should even bother or just circle round the block a couple of times or go to get a cup of coffee or something. She doesn’t know if Sam will even be there, and what to say to him if he is, because it’s not like they have the sort of relationship where they go and visit each other whenever they want to.

She pulls into the parking lot and kills the engine, but doesn’t get out of the car, just sits there twisting her hands round the wheel and wondering what part of this was a good idea.

She doesn’t notice the door to his family’s room open, so she jolts when he taps on her window with his little brother on his back and smiles as he waits for her to roll the window down.

“Stevie, this is my friend Santana,” he says, like they’re just carrying on a conversation or something and she stares for a moment before she works out what to say.

“Hey Stevie,” she says quickly, and after a moment she tugs the keys out of the ignition.

“Hi,” he says quietly, peering at her over Sam’s shoulder like he doesn’t quite trust her, and Sam gives him a shake as he sets him down and watches his run back towards their room.

“So what’s up,” Sam says, only it doesn’t sound like he means _what are you doing here_ or _what do you want_ , and Santana glances up at him through the window, like she’s not sure she heard him right.

“My mom said I should go out,” is what comes out, and she doesn’t understand why she keeps telling him these things, but.

“And you came to see me?” he says, his voice stopping just short of mocking. “Cool.”

“We don’t have to make a big deal out of it or anything,” Santana says, huffing out a breath of air and he laughs and reaches down to open her door.

“You can help me look after my brother and sister if you want,” he says, waiting for her to make her decision and even though she doesn’t know exactly why she does it, she twirls her key around her finger once more before stuffing it in her pocket and following him inside.

+

Sam’s brother and sister actually aren’t that much of a pain, and they end up all sitting on the bed watching cartoons that Sam had downloaded onto Kurt’s laptop, Sam on one side with the two kids between them and Santana on the other, Stacy’s feet kicked over her lap. Sam keeps glancing at her and smiling over the top of the kids’ heads and after a while Santana starts to smile back despite herself, and okay, this isn’t the worst way to spend an afternoon. 

Sam queues up a bunch of episodes so they don’t have to move when one ends, and Stevie and Stacy stare at the screen happily, and even Santana gets into it, snorting under her breath at some of the jokes that go over the kids heads, Sam catching her eye and smirking every time she does.

“I don’t think they should be watching this,” she mouths to him a few episodes later, under the cover of Stevie’s laughter, and Sam actually looks surprised that she’s that concerned.

“I didn’t know you cared,” he whispers back and she just folds her arms over her chest and huffs, staring at the screen again until he gets the hint and goes back to watching too.

It’s only later when she hisses, “Okay, but they just made a joke about how that kid jacks off to a piece of that pink girl’s hair,” that he reaches to clamp a hand over her mouth before his brother and sister hear her, bumping past them both in the process. They both spin round to look at them, owl eyed and Santana pulls Sam’s hand away. 

“Look the vampire chick is singing,” she says, and they give her one last look before they go back to watching the show.

Sam just glares at her and she shrugs, pushing him back onto his own side of the bed. “This show is messed up,” she whispers, and doesn’t wait for him to reply.

\+ 

It’s only when they get to the end of the season that Santana realises how long she’s been there and stretches her legs, trying to get the kinks out as she shifts to the edge of the bed. “I should go home,” she says, and Sam nods, untangling himself from his brother and following her to the door. 

“So,” she says at the same time he says, “Thanks for helping out,” and they just stare at each other, waiting for the other one to say something.

“This wasn’t a date or anything,” she says, because she doesn’t think it’s just the lighting in here that’s making his eyes look soft, and watches his eyes bug out in alarm.

“Of course it wasn’t,” he says and he actually looks offended, like he’s bothered that she thought he thought it was. She feels herself blush a little and rolls her eyes.

“I’m just saying now I’m not with Karofsky, I don’t want to get back with you,” and she doesn’t know what makes her say it but he just shakes his head and gives her a nudge towards the door.

“Obviously,” is all he says, voice a little bit sad, as he closes the door behind her.

+

She feels like crap all the way home, and she can’t shake the feeling that she’s blown the only good thing she has going on right now, and then she feels even worse because Sam Evans is the only good thing she has and they’re not even really friends.

“Did you have a good time?” her mom asks when she gets home, which makes it all worse, and she just grunts a non-committal answer and retreats to her room.

She sinks on to her bed and kicks her shoes off, running a hand through her hair while her stomach twists with guilt, and then she crosses the room to her computer and waits for it to turn on. Sam isn’t online when Skype opens but Quinn is, and after a second’s hesitation she types _hey q, sorry i missed ur calls_ and then tries to think of an excuse that doesn’t involve Brittany.

She waits for a reply, and after a moment it says that Quinn is typing, and she feels something like relief flood her stomach. 

Her phone buzzes against the desk while she waits for Quinn’s reply, and she opens the message from Brittany quickly, _hey bb i’m taking ash and my cousin to the pool today. wish you were here to share my lounger :) x_

She stares at it for a second before she texts back _sounds like fun :)_ and she looks up just in time to see the _quinn is typing_ message disappear. No more words appear, and after a second the little indicator to show that she’s online disappears too. 

“Shit,” she mutters, and snaps the lid of her computer shut a little harder than she has to.

+

She’s asleep when Brittany calls and wakes her up, and she reaches for her phone blindly and hits answer without really stopping to consider it.

“Hey,” Brittany says, “Did I wake you up?”

“Um, yeah,” Santana mumbles, rubbing a hand over her face to try force the tiredness away. “Different time zone, Britt.”

“I’m sorry,” Brittany says, and sounds like she means it too. “I just wanted to hear your voice, and everyone finally went to bed and left me alone, so.”

“Are you—are you having a good time?” Santana asks after a moment, trying to ignore the hopeful part of her that sits up at Brittany’s words. 

“It’d be better if you were here,” Brittany says, and Santana can hear the pout in her voice. She tries to ignore it. “Do you miss me too?”

Santana wants to say of course she does, but she just about manages a strangled, “Yes,” her voice coming out hoarse.

“I’ll be back soon,” Brittany says once she’s realised Santana isn’t going to say anything else. “It’s won’t be much longer.”

It’s two and a half weeks, Santana wants to say, it might as well be all the time in the world.

“Have you been having fun without me?” Brittany asks, trying to keep the moment light, and Santana wants to say no, but.

“I’ve been hanging out with Sam,” she says hesitantly, wondering how Brittany will interpret that.

“Cool,” Brittany says immediately, “I’m glad he has a friend right now,” only it doesn’t sound like she’s just talking about Sam.

“Yeah,” Santana says softly, and she’s glad Brittany can’t see the way she buries her head a little further into her pillow.

+

She stays in her room for most of the day checking Skype kind of obsessively, but Sam and Quinn aren’t there, and she flicks through the college brochures half heartedly, wishing she had more of an idea of what it was she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

Whenever she used to think about the future she used to see Brittany and her together, because she always thought somewhere in the back of her head that if they could just make it out of high school and this stupid town then everything would be easier in college and she wouldn’t have to feel so scared all of the time, only things didn’t work out that way and even though she still sees Brittany she doesn’t see herself anymore and doesn’t know where she fits in.

Her phone buzzes and she wishes she’d just sang the damn duet all those months ago and laughed it all off, and then it buzzes again and she hates herself for the thought because even though this is harder and awful and she doesn’t know if things are going to work out it has to be better than before because otherwise why bother?

At least she feels like she can breathe sometimes, the way she never could before, even if it looks like everything is closing in on her some days and she just doesn’t know what to do.

(The message from Brittany just says _hi! xxxx_ and she smiles at it and lets herself breathe for just a moment before she hits reply.)

+

She takes the route to Sam’s motel when she goes for a run later and finds him sitting on the little patch of grass by the parking lot, flicking through a pitifully small stack of comic books and sorting them into piles with a look of determination look on his face. 

She comes to a stop and jogs over to him, tugging her earphones out and dropping them around her neck as he looks up and spots her.

“Hey,” he says, as she sinks down beside him, stretching her legs out in front of her and feeling her muscles pull a little. “You look better than before.”

“It’s getting easier,” she says with a shrug, and she doesn’t know if she means the running, or. 

“Look Sam, I just wanted to say sorry about the other day,” she continues when he doesn’t say anything, and he glances up at her, a little surprised. “It’s just—” she cuts off and laughs this weird not-funny laugh as she glances down at her knees, “I guess that I forgot what it’s like having a friend. Or being a friend.” She squints up at him for just a second, gauging his reaction.

“You don’t have to—” he starts to say, and he actually looks sort of alarmed now but she just pushes on because if she doesn’t say it then she never will.

“And even though you’ve still got the biggest lips I’ve ever seen and I’m kind of afraid that you might unhinge your jaw and eat me one day, I—I’d like to be friends,” she shrugs, waiting for him to say something, and he just looks incredulous for a moment before he starts to laugh.

“You’re the weirdest friend I ever had, Santana,” he says, and she just shrugs, feeling a smile tug at her lips.

“I like you too, Sammy,” she says, and watches him laugh harder.

+

When she gets out of the shower later, her abuela is there for dinner, and she tuts when she sees her come padding in in cotton pajamas with her wet hair trailing down her back.

“This is how you spend your summer?” she says when Santana comes over to kiss her cheek. “You’re supposed to be out with your friends! Not ready for bed at 7pm. You’re still young, Santana, don’t let it go to waste.”

“I’m good, abuela,” she says, and it’s the first time in however long she’s come close to meaning it.

“She’s been out with Sam today,” her mom calls through from the kitchen and Santana watches her abuela’s eyes light up. 

“We’re just friends,” Santana says quickly, and she still stumbles a little over the word. Her abuela looks sceptical for a moment, and Santana’s isn’t sure what makes her say it but she says, “Really, abuela. We’re not dating, and we never will, okay?” It’s as close as she’s ever come to telling someone other than Brittany, and even though she doesn’t tell her why, she feels relief that she managed to get the words out at all. She swallows and waits for her abuela to say something.

“Friendship is an important foundation for a relationship,” her abuela says, and Santana can’t help but think of Brittany and hopes it doesn’t show on her face. “As long as you have that there is always hope.” She smiles kindly, and Santana wants to shout that she doesn’t need the hope because Sam is just her friend and will always be just her friend but all she can see in her head is Brittany so she just smiles in a way that doesn’t really reach her eyes, until her abuela gives her knee a squeeze and climbs off the sofa to go help her mom in the kitchen.

+

That night, she reaches for her phone as she climbs into bed and stares at it for a moment before her fingers tap over the screen.

 _goodnight britty xx_ she types, and the reply comes back almost at once.

_goodnight bb. sweet dreams! xxxx_

She smiles at her phone and falls asleep dreaming of Brittany. She wakes up in the night, confused as to why she isn’t there beside her. She rolls onto the side of the bed Brittany always used to sleep on and wraps her arms around the pillow as she presses her face into it, imagining that it still smells of Brittany’s perfume as she pulls it closer and wishes it could hold her back.

+

A couple of days later, Sam skypes her to ask if she’ll give him and his comics a ride again, and she types back _do i look like ur chauffeur_ quickly, rolling her eyes even though he can’t see.

 _yes_ , he types back, then, _i got some more stuff to sell to artie. i can’t carry it all. pls?_

She fidgets for a second, staring at Artie’s name. _do i have to_ she sends back, just to give herself some more time, and wonders if she could maybe drop him at the end of the street or something and avoid the situation all together. She knows he knows about her and Brittany, and wonders what he’d say if she turned up on his doorstep with Sam like nothing had happened.

She’s not an asshole, she knows that what she and Brittany did when Brittany was with Artie was wrong, and knows that Brittany knows it too, but it had been easy to forget because at least it meant she got Brittany for a little while even if Artie had her in all the ways it mattered, like at school and at the movies where people could see.

_santana???_

She stares at her name for a second and then sighs out heavily in the silence of her room, _okay_ she says, and hopes she hasn’t made a mistake.

+

She pulls up outside the motel an hour and a half later, after she’d spent twenty minutes talking herself into it in the mirror in her room which is so pathetic she doesn’t even want to think about it, and watches him come running out of his room with another box of comics in his arms as his mom shouts something at him from the doorway.

He puts the box on the backseat and then climbs into the passenger seat, and offers her a grimace as his mom shouts something again, only they can’t tell what it is over the noise of the engine.

“What’s up with your mom?” Santana asks, and Sam shrugs, looking away as she pulls out of the lot.

“She wants me to sell all of my comics, and there’s some I was holding on to until I, like, had to sell them,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal, but after a moment he says, “I know it’s selfish...” and then trails off and she glances across at him with a shake of her head.

He sees it and nods down at his lap where he’s twisting his hands into fists and letting them go. “Sorry, we don’t have to talk about it.” He swallows and looks up from his hands, “Have you spoken to Brittany?”

“Yeah, she’s having fun in the sun,” she says, and catches him smile out of the corner of her eye.

“I bet she’s like super tan right now,” he says, and she grins for half a second imagine the way Brittany looks in a bikini in the summer, before she catches herself and manages to stop.

“She sent me a picture from the pool,” she says after a moment and she’s not sure if she’s imagining it but Sam’s grin turns into a smirk for just a second.

“Cool,” he says innocently, and Santana frowns and then laughs a little when his expression doesn’t change, unsure if he’s mocking her or not.

+

Sam gets out first when they get to Artie’s and Santana twists her hands around the wheel for a minute and takes a deep breath before she follows him.

“You don’t have to come with me,” Sam says when he sees the look on her face, and she looks away, scuffing her foot against the sidewalk.

“I’ll give you a ride back afterwards,” is what she says and Sam stares at her all confused before he heads for Artie’s door and she follows a couple of steps behind. She doesn’t tell him that part of her has to do this, and that she feels like whatever Artie says to her is probably deserved, just clutches her keys in her hand and waits behind him for the door to open.

“Hey man,” Artie says when he sees him, and then Santana steps out from behind Sam and a weird expression flashes over his features for a moment, somewhere between pissed off and alarmed and he says, “Santana?” his eyes flashing to Sam like he’ll explain.

“Santana gave me a ride over, it’s cool if she comes in, right?” Sam says with his happy boy scout smile, and takes a step closer so Artie has to roll backwards a little.

“Um,” he says at the same time Santana says, “I can just wait in the car,” with a shrug like she isn’t bothered by the way Artie’s looking at her, and Sam looks between them in confusion.

“Come on, Artie,” Sam says, jostling his way past him, “I bought the rest of the Marvel stuff,” and in the end, Artie shrugs at her and rolls after Sam without closing the door, so Santana can follow if she wants to.

She takes another breath before she follows them inside and shuts the door, trailing after the boys as they head further into the house and towards a room at the back that quickly reveals itself to be Artie’s bedroom, even though it’s on the ground floor. She tries not to look at the rails fixed into the wall by his bed, and how there isn’t a chair by the desk, just an empty space big enough for him to wheel himself into, and her breath hitches in her throat a little when she sees the bed, because she knows that Brittany has been here with him, and that’s more than she can stand. 

Artie catches her staring and his eyes narrow but he doesn’t say anything, and Santana’s never been more grateful for Sam, who drops the box he’s carrying on the bed and gestures at it, drawing Artie’s gaze. “I bought the rest of the Marvel stuff I had, and there’s some other stuff in there too. Cover price, and it’s yours.” It sounds like it actually pains him to say that part, and he steps back when Artie rolls over to search through the box and pull stuff out that he wants.

Sam peers over his shoulder at what he’s got while Santana shifts from foot to foot by the door, wishing she’d stayed in the car. She has no idea what she was thinking, coming here, and she just wants to leave.

It feels like forever before Sam says, “That’s all you want?” with disappointment in his voice.

“Sorry, man,” Artie says, flipping through the box one last time before pulling out a thicker looking book and holding it up, “These are chick comics though, or DC.”

“I have all of _52_! That’s worth taking a chance on DC, right?” Sam says sort of desperately, and Santana’s only half following, but she watches Artie drop the book he was holding back into the box and shake his head with a shrug, rolling over to his desk to get his wallet and shove some money at Sam.

“Thanks,” Sam says listlessly, and tucks the money into his pocket carefully, like he’s afraid he might lose it. “You’re sure you don’t want anymore of these?”

Artie just shakes his head and Santana relaxes a little, thankful that they can finally go. “Thanks again, man. C’mon, Santana. We’ll get out of your hair.” Sam says and picks up the mostly empty box and heads for the door, and Santana’s taken half a step to follow him when Artie speaks behind her.

“How’s Brittany?” he says, and there’s an edge in his voice she doesn’t think she’s ever heard before.

“She’s in New Mexico,” she says, turning round to face him uncomfortably. “She left when school finished.”

Artie twists his hands round the grips on his wheels for a second before he says, “Are you and she—”

“Artie,” Santana cuts him off and he exhales noisily and looks away, and he looks angrier now than he did before.

“God, Santana, you’re such an idiot,” he says, and she just stares at him, confused. “She loves you,” he says, “You get that right?”

“I—”

“Don’t,” he snaps, pushing his glasses up his nose, frustration evident in his movement. “It was always you, even when she was with me.”

They stare at each other for a second, Artie angry and defiant, Santana twisting her hands together nervously. She wants to tell him to shut up about things he doesn’t understand but can’t find the words, because she just keeps thinking there must have been a reason Brittany stayed with him and ignores the part of her mind telling her there was a reason why she left too.

She’s angry at everything; at herself and her stupid fears, and the fact that Artie of all people is sitting there telling her what she should be doing, and at the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes the same way they do whenever she gets so frustrated she doesn’t know what to do.

“I don’t—” she starts to say, and then Sam reappears behind her with a confused expression on his face, asking why she isn’t following him, and she huffs out a breath and pushes past him towards the front door without looking back.

+

Santana’s quiet on the car ride back to Sam’s motel, and it’s only when they pull into the parking lot and Santana sits staring at the wheel that Sam asks, “Are you okay?” quietly.

Santana opens her mouth but no words come out, and when she finally looks up and over at him, biting her lip to try to stop it from trembling as the first tear starts to fall, he just pulls her into his arms and holds her until she stops shaking without asking what’s wrong.

She doesn’t know how long she stays there but she feels guilty about that too, like she doesn’t have any right to take comfort from him but she can’t make herself pull away. He has one arm around her and one arm on the back of her head, and he feels so solid against her that she lets him hold her like that until her tears dry and her breathing goes back to normal, and then she pushes herself away and rubs at her face self-consciously while he pointedly looks the other way and waits for her to say something.

“Thanks,” she says once she trusts herself to speak, and Sam nods, giving her a nudge on her shoulder with his fist, and she huffs out a laugh and looks down into her lap while he grins.

“You’ll be okay getting home?” he asks as his hand hovers on the door handle.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Santana says, and it’s the first time in however long that she’s actually meant it.

Sam grins his stupid boy scout grin as he climbs out and then reaches into the backseat to get his comics, “My mom’s gonna be pissed I didn’t get rid of these yet,” he mutters sadly and Santana suddenly gets an idea.

“I’ll take them,” she says, and Sam’s eyes snap around to stare at her. “I can give you money if you need it. I could just, like, rent them until you get back on your feet and can buy them back. I have like $40 in my purse.”

“Do you know how much comics cost,” is all he says, and Santana laughs trying to peer into the box.

“You can’t have many left,” she says, trying to see and he angles the box better so she can.

“ _52_ has 52 issues, Santana. That’s why it’s called _52_. $3 a comic makes it, what? $150?” 

Santana’s eyes bug out of her head, “$150 for comics?” she says, as Sam rolls his eyes. 

Santana just huffs and searches through her purse for a minute, “46.24,” she says, “Take it or leave it.” She holds the cash out to him, pennies included, and waves it from side to side.

Sam glances back towards the door of his room and into the box again, “Ugh, just take them, but you owe me,” he says with a sigh.

“I’ll take care of them,” she smiles sweetly, and watches him glance into the box one final time before he slams the door.

+

When she gets home, she pulls her phone out and texts Brittany without stopping to think about it, her fingers tapping out the message quickly, _i can’t wait for you to come home. i miss you so much :( xxx_

It’s barely five minutes before Brittany’s reply comes through, _:( don’t be sad! i’ll b back soon xxx_. She’s just smiling at the message when her phone vibrates in her hand again, _+stop frowning!! ur too pretty to frown :) xxxxx_

She sinks down on to her bed to read the message again, smiling wider than she has all summer, before she hits reply.

+

She doesn’t even look in the box Sam gave her for two days, just drops it under her desk and forgets about it completely, and it’s only when she drops an earring and crouches down to retrieve it that she sees it again. She doesn’t know what makes her pull the box out into the light or what make her pull out a random issue of _52_ and flick through it, but she stops when she sees two women kissing with a larger picture underneath of them snuggled up on a couch. 

She just blinks at it, dumbfounded, and then flicks back a few pages looking for more pictures of the two of them, because she had no idea this kind of thing existed in comics, or at least, not in some way that wasn’t hideously offensive.

She reaches for another issue at random when she’s gone through the first, and gasps a little when she realises one of the women is Batgirl or Batwoman or Bat _somebody_ , and the other is some kind of superhero as well, and then she glances at the door as though to check she’s definitely alone before she reaches for issue one.

+

She definitely did not spend an entire afternoon reading comic books, and she definitely absolutely did not spend an entire afternoon falling in love with a fictional character, but when Sam sends her a message on skype later asking what she’s up to, she types, _u asshole why didn’t u tell me about renee montoya before_ and waits for his reply.

 _wait, u read the comics???_ he says and she rolls her eyes.

 _yeah that’s the important part here_ , she sends back. She’s willing to bet almost anything that Sam is laughing at her right now.

Skype chirps, and the message just says, _nerd_.

 _asshole_ , she types with a grin.

+

She texts Brittany back more often than she doesn’t now, so they end up texting all kinds of boring things that they’re doing without talking about it, in a way that Santana actually loves because it feels like they’re starting to share things things with each other in this weirdly significant way that she doesn’t know how to explain even though Brittany is just telling her what she had for lunch. 

It’s only when Brittany texts to ask if she’s heard from Quinn because she’s texted her a couple of times and she hasn’t replied that Santana remembers that she still hasn’t heard from her either.

 _i’m sure she’s ok x_ , she sends back, only she’s not entirely sure she believes it.

+

The next time she goes out for a run she heads for Quinn’s house, because she hasn’t been able to shake the feeling of worry in the pit of her stomach, and she runs faster and faster the closer she gets so she has to double over when she gets there and pant to get her breath back.

She walks up to Quinn’s door and knocks, and it feels like forever until the door opens to Quinn’s mom blinking at her. She pulls her hood down and smiles brightly, “Hi Mrs Fabray, is Quinn home?” she says, and hopes she won’t question why she’s coming around now when she hasn’t been here in so long.

“She’s not here,” she says, her eyes sad, and Santana blinks, surprised.

“Oh,” she says, “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

Quinn’s mom just shakes her head, and Santana’s even more confused now than before. “Well can you tell her I’ll call her?” she asks, and Quinn’s mom nods before she shuts the door.

She jogs back to her house slowly, feeling the sick, worrying feeling in her stomach intensify. She tries to call Quinn when she gets home, and again after she gets out of the shower but there’s no answer, and in the end she just leaves a voicemail that says, “Hey Q, give me a call when you get this so we can get coffee or something,” in this falsely bright voice that doesn’t quite disguise the worry she feels.

+

“Again?” her mom says, when she tells her she’s going to help Sam babysit his little brother and sister, and Santana just nods. 

“He’s my friend, mom,” she says, crossing her arms across her chest. “And they outnumber him.”

Her mom just looks at him for a minute, and Santana meets her gaze steadily, waiting for her to ask the question she knows she will. “Are you two dating again? Because I don’t know how I feel about you spending all day in his motel room.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Santana says, feeling the heat rise into her cheeks. “He’s my _friend_ ,” she stresses the word a little harder than she probably has to. “And that’s all he’ll ever be. I was... confused before when we dated, but I’m not anymore, okay?”

She’s never come closer to admitting the truth, and she stands there defiantly, waiting for her mom to say something. It’s not what she expects.

“Okay,” her mom says, and she gives her arm a squeeze as she walks past her, smiling warmly. “ I think it’s nice that you have a friend.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Santana says again, gaping a little because the last time she checked she wasn’t in kindergarten anymore, and her mom just laughs as she disappears out the door.

+

Sam’s sitting on the patch of grass by the parking lot with his computer on his knees while Stacy and Stevie run around chasing each other when she gets there, and she comes over to sink down next to him and give him a nudge with her shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, looking up from his screen and flashing a grin, and she just smiles back. They sit in silence for a while, Santana settling with her head against his legs as she stretches out and sunbathes and watches the kids, and it’s a while before Sam says, “Can you keep an eye on them if I go get them a juicebox or something?” and she nods, grumbling when he stands and dislodges her.

He sets his laptop down next to her without bothering to close the lid, and she wouldn’t even look at it except for the fact that his Skype notification goes off before he comes back. She rolls onto her belly and nudges the trackpad to get the screen to light up, and then glances at it, seeing the message from Mike and making a note to tell Sam when he comes back. She’s about to close her eyes and go back to sunbathing when she catches sight of her name in his contact list, and she doesn’t know what makes her think of it, but her eyes flick up to the top of the list, where it says _artie a!_ , before her eyes scan back down to her name so much further down.

When Sam gets back she shoves the laptop over to him and tells him that Mike is after him, and waits for him to read the message and reply before she says, “So you were looking for Artie at the start of the summer, huh?” and he looks confused for a minute, while she sneaks glances at him. “When you skyped me, you were looking for Artie.”

He glances at his screen and she’s not sure if she imagines it, but a faint blush colours his cheeks, “Yeah,” he says, only it doesn’t sound quite like the truth.

“Okay,” she says, and settles a little more comfortably against him.

After a second, he huffs and tries to move, but she catches onto his hand and pulls him back. “Do I look like your pillow,” he says, and she just laughs and leans on him more heavily.

+

There’s only four days until Brittany comes home, and she keeps texting Santana every couple of hours to say exactly how many minutes it is until they’ll see each other again. It’s kind of cute, especially because Santana’s actually starting to expect the messages now but Brittany still finds ways to surprise her, like how she texts a picture of herself holding up three fingers and grinning dorkily when there are three days left just before Santana goes to bed and Santana texts her a picture back of her bed that says _i’ll just sleep until you get here xxx_ without giving her time to think about it, and then grins and blushes when Brittany sends back _i wish i was there already xxxx_.

She thinks she gets it now, because Brittany just seems to be _Brittany_ and she just seems to be _Santana_ , and it isn’t hard to reply to messages when she remembers that. Sam laughs every time her phone vibrates with a message from Brittany and teases her every time he sees the smile on her face, but it doesn’t matter that it’s Brittany texting her and not some guy, because Sam never treats her any differently, even if she’s never told him why she grins the way she does.

(He probably sees it on her face.)

She taps the screen quickly and sends Brittany one last message before she pulls her glasses off and sets them down on the night stand with her phone, _i wish you were here too xxxx_

+

Sam comes over the next day, and shifts nervously when she opens the door, a package tucked under his arm and his eyes downcast. 

“What’s wrong?” she says immediately, as she steps aside to let him in.

“My dad got a job,” he says, only he doesn’t sound happy about it all.

“That’s awesome?” Santana says, confused, and watches him shuffle on his feet a little.

“It’s in Kentucky,” he says after a moment, and then looks at her so helplessly she doesn’t know what to do.

“Kentucky,” she echoes, and he just nods sadly. 

“We leave tomorrow. We’re going to stay with my Aunt and get settled.” 

Santana feels like the ground has suddenly gone uneven under her feet, and she didn’t know just how much he meant to her until this moment, when he’s standing in her hallway looking as sad as she’s ever seen him. He’s the only good thing she’s had this summer, and she doesn’t really want to imagine the rest of it without him, just the thought of it making her eyes sting with unshed tears.

“I’ll miss you,” she says, because it’s the only thing she can think to, and he sniffs and nods before taking a step forward and pulling her into a hug. She hugs him back tightly, her fingers digging into his back, and when he steps back and pushes the package into her hands she stares down at it in confusion for a second.

“I wanted you to have those,” he says, and takes a step towards the door, “I have to go help my parents pack up what we have left, so.”

“Let me give you my number,” Santana says quickly, reaching for his hand and a pen from the table by the door. “So you can call me when you get there, okay?”

Sam smiles down at his hand and the numbers she writes on it, flipping his hand over to squeeze her fingers before he lets go. “It’ll be the first thing I do,” she says, and she believes him too.

“Take care, Sammy,” she mumbles, blinking furiously against the tears in her eyes, and he turns at the door to smile this sad smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“You too, Santana,” he says earnestly, and ducks through the door.

+

She doesn’t tell Brittany that Sam’s leaving, but she thinks her sadness must creep into her text messages because after a while Brittany sends a message that says, _whats wrong honey??? xxx_ , and Santana searches for the words to tell her.

When she does, feeling stupid because she doesn’t quite know how to explain exactly what Sam’s come to mean to her this summer, Brittany just texts back, _I’m rly sorry :( i’ll hug it all better the day after tomorrow xxx_ and even that doesn’t seem to help.

+

It’s not until the next day that she pulls the books Sam gave her out of the newspaper he’d wrapped them in and stares at the covers, wondering what they are. There are four volumes of something called _Strangers In Paradise_ , and she flicks through the pages before going back to the beginning and reading a few pages.

It’s a lot different to the superhero stuff she read before, but she figures out why he gave it to her soon enough when Katchoo starts to look at Francine the same way she thinks she maybe looked at Brittany for the last few months.

She keeps reading it, burning through the pocket books quickly because she has nothing better to do, and that night, when Sam calls from Kentucky to say he’s fine, she doesn’t bother to say hello, just says, “Where the hell are the next two volumes you asshole? Francine turned Katchoo down at the wedding and got married to Brad!” and Sam laughs for so long that he eventually starts gasping for breath and tells her that he missed her too.

+

She knows she shouldn’t but her feet carry her to Sam’s motel when she goes running that night, but she can’t stand the way the lights are off and the room is so obviously empty, so she just keeps running, further than she’s gone before without caring, so she does a big loop past Quinn’s house too, Quinns bedroom window dark once again. She squeezes her eyes shut as she runs past and tries to block it out, hating the sight of the dark room staring down at her and wishing she knew how to make it better.

Her route home takes her past Brittany’s house, and she can’t stand the dark windows there too, only she knows they’ll be full of light tomorrow when Brittany and her family get home, and the thought consoles her, somehow, even though it doesn’t help her with missing Sam or make her worry about Quinn any less.

She tries to block it all out and concentrates on her feet hitting the pavement and the sound of her own breathing in her ears, and it doesn’t feel like long before she gets home, the lights bright in her windows, and collapses on her porch, breathing hard as she waits for her heartbeat to return to normal.

+

Brittany texts her with updates about how close they are to Lima, and Santana answers each one quickly, feeling the nerves in the bottom of her stomach. She keeps getting changed and staring at herself in the mirror, even though she’s not entirely sure if she’s going to see Brittany tonight or if she’ll have to wait until tomorrow. 

She nearly trips over Sam’s box of comics, and then panics a little, wondering what Brittany would think if she saw her with them and stuffs them in the back of her closet, dropping an old dress over the top of them for good measure. 

She feels like she has all this energy, and she goes for her run early and showers before she gets changed again, only it doesn’t really help. All she can think is that Brittany will be back soon, which means Brittany could be in her arms soon, or maybe she’d be kissing her soon, and even though she knows they shouldn’t she thinks that maybe they could and it would be okay. 

She thinks she knows how to make it okay, now.

She goes downstairs to get a sandwich for lunch, and her mom peers at her over the top of the newspaper she’s reading for a long moment before she asks if she’s okay.

“Brittany’s home today,” Santana says, trying to keep some of the excitement out of her voice, and watches her mom just about fail to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

+

Brittany calls at exactly 5.04pm and all she says when Santana answers is, “Open your window.”

She takes a breath before she shoves her window up and sticks her head out to see, and sure enough there’s Brittany grinning up at her, much more tanned than before, her blonde hair a little lighter, and even from up here she can see the freckles across the bridge of Brittany’s nose, the ones she always gets in the summer, and feels her breath hitch in her throat.

“Hey,” Brittany calls, dropping her phone from her ear, and Santana mimics her, tossing her phone onto her dresser blindly.

“Hi,” she says, and she doesn’t think she’s ever smiled so hard in her life.

“I’ll come down,” Santana calls and almost runs through her house and down the stairs, pulling the front door open without bothering to put her shoes on.

Brittany takes two steps to meet her and wraps her arms around her, holding them close together as Santana presses her face into her hair. “I missed you,” she mumbles and Brittany hears her and squeezes her a little tighter.

“I missed you too,” she says and pulls back to grin at her, perfect and beautiful and _Brittany_ , right there in her front yard. 

They grin at each other, for a minute, both of them smiling wide and easy, and Brittany reaches over to tangle their pinky fingers together and give it a tug and Santana thinks her grin gets even bigger.

She knows they're not there yet, but they're getting closer, and she just breathes for a moment, taking it all in.

“So do you want to hang out,” she says and holds her breath until Brittany bites her lip and nods, and lets herself be pulled inside.


End file.
